Baby Did A Bad, Bad Thing
by Aria34
Summary: "I'm your neighbor, Bucky," he took her hand in his much larger, warmer one and grinned, displaying his even, white teeth. God, he was perfect. Fate was such a funny thing. She'd just been thinking about her dream-man and here he was, fresh from the depths of her dirtiest fantasies.
1. Chapter 1

**_I don't own anything MCU!_**

* * *

Gemma exhaled heavily and took a quick stock of the boxes in the back of her moving van. It seemed like there were more now than there were an hour ago when she and her brother had started transferring them to her new apartment. That couldn't happen, _right_? Moving was always a huge ordeal, but Gemma didn't let the thought of a few hours of heavy-lifting dampen her spirits. _Nothing_ could bring down her day, or even her week.

She'd gotten the job.

Gemma Sagan was now officially a Collection Manager at the Kreeger Museum. Ever since her first trip to Washington D.C. on a school trip 16 years ago, she'd held the completely unattainable goal of living in D.C. and working in one of the stunning museums- but now that dream had come true.

To finally be able to walk through the doors of that magnificent black and white building as a _member of the staff_ \- it was the best feeling in the world. A dazed smile came over her face as she tried to wrap her head around the whole situation- she had her dream job and was living in her dream city. If her mother was here, Gemma knew what she'd say - _all you need now is your dream man_. Well, that one would have to wait. Wherever he was, he'd just have to take a backseat to her career for a while.

She had an irresistible urge to throw her fist in the air and shout, " _Watch out world! Gemma Sagan is here!_ " but that was clearly a side effect of watching too many cheesy Disney Channel movies as a little kid. Nope- both fists remained firmly in her pockets as she turned to look at her new apartment building. It wasn't her dream home, but it came pretty damn close. A large red-brick building on a gorgeous, quiet street. Everywhere she looked, there were massive oak trees, casting patches of shade over the sidewalk; and vibrant crepe-myrtle shrubs- in full bloom, spilling over fences in clouds of magenta flowers. Add to that the hot sun and a light breeze- it was pretty much the perfect summer day.

God, it couldn't be more picturesque.

She felt like the squirrels and birds were about to start singing any second now. And of course, she was Cinderella in her rags without a prince.

"Gem, what the hell is in this thing?" Alex's voice snapped her out of her daydream as he groaned and hoisted a box out of the van. By the way, his arms were straining, she could tell it was definitely one of her book-boxes. She desperately hoped Alex wouldn't notice that he'd been carrying all the heaviest boxes up to her new place.

She laughed, "Most likely books- it's not _that_ heavy. " She rolled her eyes and turned back to the moving van, grabbing a much lighter box which just happened to be filled with throw pillows and knick-knacks.

"Yeah? Then why don't we switch?" Alex propped the box between his hip and the railing of the staircase leading to the front door of her new apartment building. He slid his sunglasses up to hold back his messy hair then gripped the base of the box again.

"You're doing such a good job with it," Her voice wavered with barely repressed laughter as he rolled his eyes and started up the stairs. "But lift with your legs!" She called after him, throwing in her 2 cents of _very_ unnecessary advice.

She followed after him as they crossed the lobby and climbed the stairs to her second-floor apartment.

Another thing she had really loved when she'd signed the lease was that there were only four floors with six apartments on each floor. It felt private and cozy- a stark contrast to her old apartment building, which had 6 floors of almost 50 apartments each. Boston had been an adventure, but she was ready for a whole new one now. Which was why she'd made the impulsive, arguably foolish, decision of leaving most of her furniture behind- with strict orders to her mother to sell everything. Only a few pieces had made the journey south. Among other things- an armchair, pilfered from her parents' basement; and a bar-cart, a purchase she'd proudly made with the first paycheck from her first adult job 4 years back.

Other than those, she had nothing else in the way of a furniture. So she'd been in the process of ordering everything, hoping they would arrive within the week. But until then, she'd be spending her nights on an inflatable mattress.

Oh, how she was looking forward to that.

"Well that's it, Gem" Alex slung an arm around her shoulders as he playfully nudged the brim of her baseball cap down- pushing it over her eyes. "One more box and you'll be all moved in-" Gemma wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked to the van.

"Are you sure you can't stay the night?" She looked up at him, hoping she didn't sound too desperate.

"Can't, kiddo," he let her go and jumped to grab hold of the handle to drag the metal door down- shuttering the back of the empty moving van. He leaned against the van and nodded in the direction of a box sitting at the edge of the curb. "That's your last box- then you're officially a D.C. girl."

"Yup." Gemma nodded and shoved her hands in her back pockets. Suddenly, the excitement that had gotten her through the day faded to sadness. As soon as Alex got in that truck and drove away, she'd be _alone_. It wasn't like she'd been living at home or with her big brother for the past few years, but she'd never moved more than an hour away from her family before. In fact, all four of them had lived in Massachusetts her entire life. She and Alex both went to university there, Alex recently bought a house two streets over from the family home, and she'd been living in Boston since she graduated.

So D.C. was a sudden change for all of them.

"Officially a D.C. girl," She repeated, nodding, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. Even though she felt anxious, she didn't want Alex to worry about her.

Alex suddenly pulled her into a tight hug. "Listen, just because you have a new house and a new job, don't think you can't call your brother like old times." He held her at arm's length. "Anytime, Gem." He said earnestly. "I mean it."

"I know" She launched herself into his arms for a quick squeeze then pulled away. "Alright, no sad goodbyes - ok?"

"You got it," He jingled the van's keys between them and jerked his head toward the road. "I need to get a move on, don't want to be on the road all night." He rounded the corner of the van to the driver's side and hoisted himself up.

"Drive safe, Alex," Gemma took a step back, slightly stumbling at her heel hit the curb, and caught herself on the fence.

His laughter sounded from the driver's seat as she made a face up at him, "I will if you walk safe!" Alex winked at her and started the engine, drowning out whatever he said next, although judging by his face, he found whatever he said to be quite hilarious.

Probably another joke about how she almost just broke her ankle.

She waved as he backed the van onto the street, then watched for as long as she could- only turning away when Alex took a right turn. She signed and sat beside the cardboard box for a few minutes, picking at the rips in her jeans as she watched the dusky summer sky. A few streaks of bright orange and pale pink peeked through the tree branches- the only indication that the sun was going to set soon. It really was _absolutely_ _beautiful_. A perfect day for the next step in her life.

Inhaling deeply, she got to her feet and crouched to lift the box- groaning when she realized what Alex had been saying right before he left. _Good luck with the box!_ This was the last book-box. She thought she'd been so slick earlier, conveniently taking all the lighter boxed while he carried the heavy ones- but he was one step ahead like he'd always been since they were little kids. She slid her fingers under the box and lifted, _with her legs,_ as she'd been so kind to advise Alex earlier that afternoon.

Breathing heavily, Gemma climbed the last few steps and turned the corner, sighing in relief when her door came into view.

 _At last_.

The walk from the van to her apartment hadn't seemed so long when Alex was carrying the heavier boxes. But it had definitely gotten much, _much_ longer in the last few minutes.

Propping the box between her hip and the wall, she dug through her pockets for her key with one hand while the other arm remained wrapped around the box, holding it in place. She had brought the key with her earlier, _right?_ Or was it still in the apartment? Wouldn't that just be the best way to start at her new place- by having to call a locksmith _before_ she was even moved in?

 _Got it_! She sighed in relief and smiled as her fingers closed around a silver ring. The box painfully dug into her hip as she tried to pull her key out. She should have taken her dad's advice- _Hon, don't put all your books in one box, it'll be hell to lift. Space 'em out, ok?_

She was too cool for that advice though, so she'd meticulously packed her books in until there were absolutely _no gaps_ between them. She had been so proud of her efficient packing skills... _until now_. But it was fine, once she got that door open, only a couple more steps then she could put this stupid box down and collapse onto her... inflatable mattress.

"What the fuck?" she mumbled under her breath, tugging at her key. It was stuck. She tugged harder, hoping it would miraculously come loose, but no luck there. With one eye on the large box and her phone perched precariously on top of it, she twisted around to see where the key was stuck.

Her jeans. Her stupid ripped jeans.

She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and gave the key ring one last yank, cringing as she heard threads popping. _Yes!_ Finally! The momentary victory was quickly crushed by utter panic as the box began to tip over, careening to one side threateningly. Gemma flung both her arms up (in what could only be described as a wild, flailing motion) and righted the box with a sigh of relief. The box and her phone were both fine.

...but now her keys were on the floor somewhere behind her.

She dropped her head back in defeat and groaned, "fucking hell -"

"Can I help you with that?" A deep voice sounded from behind. Where has he come from? And when? Was this one of those stranger danger situations? Should she drop the box- or maybe try to throw it at him- and run?

She heard his footsteps as he came closer- then a jingle as he picked up her keys. He sounded amused by her predicament. "Almost thought you had it there, for a second."

Great, clearly he'd been watching her for long enough to see _that_ whole fiasco. All she could do was hope she hadn't ripped a huge hole in the seat of her jeans when she had yanked her keys out. And if she had, well then hopefully he was enjoying the free show.

"Thank you so much," She tried turning to see who her mystery savior was, but couldn't get far enough with her arms wrapped around the box. "Actually, if you just put the keys in my hand, I'm sure I can get the door open."

The man chuckled and took a step closer- he was tall- probably close to Alex's height and _built_.

"As fun as it'd be to watch you juggle the box and your keys, maybe I should just -" He trailed off and gestured toward the door, letting her decide whether or not she wanted him to open the door.

"Ah, fuck it-" She adjusted her arms around the box. "Yeah- just go ahead," she nodded at the doorknob as she pulled the box off the wall and waited for him to hold the door open. She awkwardly shuffled into her new apartment and heard him pull the keys out of the doorknob behind her.

With a heavy sigh, she crouched down and moaned quietly. Her thighs, which were already burning, definitely weren't going to thank her tomorrow. She set the box down and stood to face him, smiling, hoping she didn't look too obviously out-of-breath.

 _Woah_.

This man was... _everything_. Tall, as she'd noticed earlier; definitely built, with broad shoulders; dark hair, cropped closely at the sides and longer at the top and then cherry on top of it all- bright blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled, which he was doing right now- while she stared at him... gaping like an idiot. Honestly, even if he was some kind of serial killer, it might be worth it.

There was something to be said for fate. She'd just been thinking about a dream-man and here he was. Fresh from the depths of her dirtiest wet-dreams. But knowing her luck with men, he was either gay or in a relationship. Or both.

He held out her keys and she smiled in response, taking them from him. "Thank you so much," She shoved the key into her other pocket, the non-ripped one, and held her hand out. "I'm Gemma."

"Bucky," he took her hand in his larger, warmer one and smiled wider- displaying straight, white teeth. God, this man was _perfect_. "I'm your neighbor." He tilted his head to the side, gesturing in the direction of his apartment. He lived at the end of the hall and was her only neighbor other than the people who lived across from her.

"Oh, it's really nice to meet you!" She cast a quick glance around her apartment and vaguely gestured at the box she'd just put down. "It was full of books." She admitted sheepishly.

Bucky nodded and laughed slightly, "My parents always told me to spread out my books -"

"Oh yeah," Gemma rolled her eyes, "My dad told me the same thing- but I was too cool to listen."

"So was I -" Bucky replied wryly. "The first time."

"Definitely learned my lesson." She crossed her arms and winced at the sudden twinge. "Definitely."

Bucky glanced down at his wrist, checking the time and looked up at her with a small smile.

Gemma realized he was probably looking for a nice way to exit the conversation and spoke, "Oh! Don't let me keep you-"

"What are you doing f-" Bucky spoke at the same time, awkwardly pausing exactly when she did. He laughed and continued speaking when she gestured for him to go ahead, "You're not keeping me from anything. I was actually going to ask if you're not doing anything for dinner- join me."

Gemma was momentarily speechless- did the famed southern-hospitality extend as far north as D.C.? Or was he just offering as a courtesy? Probably the latter. She shook her head and held her hands up, "That's so kind of you, but I really couldn't."

"Come on, I insist," Bucky held up a large, brown paper bag. "It's the best Thai takeout in D.C." he raised an eyebrow, "you'd regret saying no."

She shot a desperate look over her shoulder, looking for an excuse so he wouldn't feel compelled to ask again out of politeness. "I should unpack." She tilted her head at the boxes.

"Oh, come on- the boxes'll still be here tomorrow." He slowly took a step back and gestured toward his apartment with his thumb. "And I even have a couch where we can sit."

How did a guy like this even exist? Not only was he ridiculously attractive, but he was also _insanely nice_. Some people were just to perfect to be real.

A slow smile came over Gemma's face as she gave in. There was only so much she could resist- and right now, a hot guy with great food and a couch was more than she could handle. "Oh, well how can I say no to a couch?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Bucky grinned at her and took another step back, "let's go."

She sighed in exaggerated defeat and took two steps forward before turning on her heel and walking to her refrigerator. "Let me at least get drinks, then." She called over her shoulder as she bent down to survey the sparse contents. Her brother might occasionally act like a total menace but he knew his priorities.

Alcohol was an absolute necessity for both of them, and she was certain that he'd stocked up her fridge before he left.

 _Bingo_.

"You don't have to!" Bucky raised his voice so she could hear him from the front door. She turned and raised her arms, displaying a pack of beer and a bottle of whiskey. His eyes sparkled when he saw the alcohol, "but I'm glad you did."

Gemma smiled to herself as she followed, locking her door behind her. _A hot guy, great food, and alcohol_ \- D.C. was even better than she'd hoped.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I hope you all enjoy it! Currently, I have the whole fic outlined, it should be something like 8 chapters so I hope you all stick around.**

 **Please read and review- send me your thoughts, suggestions or just say hi, I always love to hear from you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**_I don't own anything MCU!_**

* * *

Gemma kicked off her heels with a relieved sigh as she slammed the door shut behind her. _God, those fucking shoes._ She glared at the shiny, black patent shoes- they were the worst part of every day, and the only thing she didn't absolutely love about her job at the museum.

At first, she'd been enamored by the idea of dressing up for work. It was so grown up and glamorous, especially after the years she'd spent slogging away in the back corners of libraries dressed in jeans and t-shirts But approximately three hours into her first day, three hours of walking back and forth across the glossy marble floors, she absolutely hated it. Mostly because she was terrified of skidding across the oh, so slippery white floors and landing on her ass, but also because her feet hurt like a bitch by the end of the day.

But still, every morning, she woke up, got dressed in some ridiculously formal skirt or pantsuit, slung on a pair of three-inch heels and said a quick prayer that she wouldn't trip or faceplant until she got home. So far, praying was working like a charm.

It also helped that the heels and outfits, no matter how uncomfortable they were, made her feel confident and sexy as hell. Say what you want about heels being a male invention to make a woman's butt look better, it was true and she loved it.

She dropped her bag on the counter and headed straight for the bottles lined up on her bar-cart. The only thing she needed now was a stiff drink and a hot shower to loosen up her muscles. She didn't even want to think about unpacking those final few boxes or figuring out dinner until she was good and tipsy. The pricey bottle of rye was calling to her- Gemma could almost hear it's hypnotizing voice as she uncapped it and inhaled deeply. The deep butterscotch undertone had her pouring with a generous hand. She wasn't usually a whiskey kind of girl, but after a week like this, she needed something strong enough to knock her over. And if the drink was strong enough to dull her achy feet, even better.

The smoky, silky burn of the first sip left her warmed and ready for more. She'd always thought of good alcohol like amazing sex- it left you weak and shaky, but always, _always_ wanting more. Speaking of amazing sex, it'd been way too long since she had some. Shit, at this point she'd settle for 30 seconds of jack-rabbiting with a guy who didn't know where the clit was.

She rolled her eyes thinking of the last few men who'd hit on her at work. Always the weirdly over-dressed kind who said shit like, "I treat my woman like a queen." They made her skin crawl.

Even worse were the guys who accosted her in the metro where she couldn't run away. She silently reminded herself to pick up some pepper spray, just in case. Better safe than sorry and all that.

Why was it never a hot, normal guy? Maybe someone like Bucky, "I'm your neighbor" Barnes. Oh yeah, she knew his last name now. And his best friends' names, Steve and Natasha. She also knew the fact that all three (especially Natasha) were hot as hell and had been friends since they were children. The only thing she didn't know yet was whether her hot new neighbor was straight. And wasn't that the most tragic fucking thing in the world?

Another deep sip, this one went down a bit more easily, and she headed to her bathroom with the bottle in one hand and glass in the other. She was still deciding how drunk she wanted to get, and after all, Friday nights were supposed to be fun. Right?

A few moments later, Gemma's clothes were strewn across her bed and she stood under the pounding spray of the shower, letting the heat relax her tense muscles. It was times like this that she was glad she'd invested in that high-pressure showerhead. Well, times like this and the few times she'd let the pulsing spray hit her right where she needed it most. God, she'd never forget that friend in college who taught her the wonders of showerheads. In fact, she detached the head from the wall and let the stream of water run down her throat, she could use some of that good showerhead attention right now.

She let the spray beat against her belly and moaned as the water ran down her legs. The steam fogging up the bathroom went straight to her head, making her dizzy with anticipation. She knew part of it was from the alcohol, the rest was from need. Just as she directed the water where she needed it most, strange noise startled her out of her haze- a thump? It sounded like a book had fallen off a table.

There it was again! Her heartbeat sped up, was it from inside her apartment?

It wasn't a thump. She narrowed her eyes as she heard the sound again. It sounded more like... a slap? Where was it coming from? She stuck her head out, pressing the shower curtain close to the wall to keep the steam from escaping. The window in her bathroom was closed- and she definitely hadn't opened the window in her bedroom. It wasn't from outside.

It sounded like it was coming from- she glanced around the bathroom- was it coming from the vent? She made a face and turned away- if that sound was from a mousetrap, she didn't want to know about it.

She leaned back against the shower wall and tried to get back to the shower head but the weird noises had taken all the fun out of it. Sighing, she turned off the water and stood in the shower, shivering slightly without the hot spray. Tugging a towel around her body, she stepped out and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet to slather her legs in lotion.

She made a face as she stood and looked up at the vent above her. It didn't sound like the noises had been coming from up there. She shuddered and stepped back just in case. It didn't sound like it was coming from the vents but she'd be damned if she stood there waiting for a mouse's decapitated head to roll out of the vent and land on her.

But now she was curious.

Maybe someone was renovating. Maybe it was hot Bucky next door. He'd be a sight for sore eyes, shirtless, hammering away at some cabinet. What she wouldn't give for him to hammer away at her instead. She chewed her lip and let herself get lost in the ridiculous fantasy.

He'd be shirtless and sweaty, hammering away at some wall, details weren't important here. And somehow she'd be in a towel and pair of heels. Comfortable stripper heels. Obviously, her hair and makeup would be perfect. He would hear her behind him and stand up. God, he'd be hot as hell. He'd come over to her and she would drop the towel as he pressed her to the wall.

She sat on the edge of her bed and shook her hair out.

That's when she'd say something witty like, "You trying to get me all dirty again?"

He'd drop to his knees with a smirk, palms stroking up her legs and say, "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be filthy."

Then he'd hitch one leg over his shoulder and press his-

Wait. That sound. There it was again. Another one! And was that a moan? She snapped out of her fantasy at the sound of a long, drawn-out wail.

Her eyes widened as she held her breath and listened. Oh yeah, that was definitely a woman. And she was loud. Gemma bit her lip to stifle her gasp as she unfolded a second towel to dry her hair.

Perverse curiosity stopped her from playing music on her phone to block out the sound. Whoever she was, that woman was lucky.

Gemma rolled her eyes, had it really been so long that she was now jealous of a stranger for having good sex?

Yes, it absolutely had been that long.

"Oh, Bucky!"

Gemma froze when she heard the scream. _Bucky_? Holy shit. She'd been listening to Hot Bucky From Next Door. She's been listening to him screw the brains out of some nameless, very lucky woman. By the sounds of it, he was doing a stellar job too.

The thought of it turned her on. She'd never been a voyeur or anything like that, but hey, they interrupted her little fantasy so it was only fair to "borrow" from them, right?

And plus, it was hot as hell to know that Bucky was so talented in bed. Well, either that or this woman was putting on a hell of a show and should add "trained actor" to her resume.

"Yes! Daddy," Another loud slap. _Jesus Fucking Christ._ He was kinky.

She crawled up her bed and pressed her ear to the wall above the headboard. Their bedrooms must have been back to back because she could feel the vibrations as his bed started thumping against the wall.

And even better, she could hear his voice now.

"I love how wet you get for me."

His low grown sent a chill through her body.

"Love to feel that tight little cunt around my cock."

The mystery woman gasped and pleaded nonsensical words in response. Gemma, in turn, pressed closer to the wall and snuck one quiet hand under her towel. Her heart pounded to the beat of the bed slamming into the wall.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He may have been talking to his girl on the other side of the wall, but she couldn't' help but feel that he was right there, right next to her. Whispering the filthy words in her ear. She prayed that he wouldn't stop.

She moaned quietly, muffling the sound with her fist as her fingers glided through wetness.

"Harder, baby. Please, fuck me harder."

If Gemma were in her position, she'd be begging for the same thing. Her fingers worked faster, circling and teasing. Just a little more. She just needed to hear his voice again.

"Fuck! Bucky, I can't. I can't take it- Oh!"

"You're gonna take everything I give you."

Gemma unconsciously ground her hips against her hand. Yeah, she'd take _everything_ he gave her.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you?" His words were labored and rough. Gemma held her breath and nodded desperately as if he could see her.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Another loud slap, the loudest one yet.

"Yes, daddy!" The woman let out a wild cry at the same time as Gemma's shuddering gasp.

Fucking hell, the man just made them both cum at the same time.

Without warning, his pace picked up, evenly spaced thumps of the bed because jagged, unsteady and short.

Then, he let out a loud groan as if he just finished running a fucking marathon. The sound vibrated into her bones and she knew she'd never forgotten it.

"Fucking amazing." Yes, she smirked as she collapsed back into her bed. She couldn't help but agree with his assessment.

All Gemma could hear for a few seconds was harsh breaths then rustling sheets. Suddenly, laughter, from both of them. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed in bed with a man. All the guys she'd ever dated had always been so serious in bed, working into her like they were trying to check off a box.

Went down on my girl for 2 minutes, check.

Fucked my girl for 12 minutes tonight, check.

Made my girl cum, check (as far as he knew).

Gemma was struck with the desire for laughter, spontaneity and a little dirty in bed now. Unfortunately, all she'd had was her hand and Bucky's voice, but that did the trick today.


End file.
